Morning After
by Emmegan
Summary: A RaoulBuri ficlet, short and sweet. What happens in the morning after one of their usual shmexy nights. Pretty much shamless fluff, but what more can you ask for?


"No," Buri heard Raoul say into her hair. "It's too early. I'm not getting up."

"Mmm..." she rolled over and blinked lazily at him before resettling her head on his chest. Neither am I."

He sighed. Voice slurred with drowsiness, he muttered, "Do you think we could get Jonathan to issue an imperial decree designating longer nights? Or at least extra hours of sleep for certain people?"

She grinned despite not being fully awake. "Certain people engaging in... certain activities?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"Mithros knows Thayet and Jon were engaging in such activities last night," she yawned. "It was _their_ anniversary party, after all. Perhaps he won't be averse to signing such a decree if we catch him early enough."

He chuckled sleepily, and rolled both of them over to tuck her into the curve of his body. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Do you want me to?"

"_No_," he murmured, pulling her closer. "I want you to stay here. You keep my bed

warm."

Buri couldn't help but smile. "And is that all I keep warm?" she teased softly.

"Gods, no." She felt his lips on her neck, and knew he was smiling too.

After a moment, he sighed again. "Although I'm exhausted now, I've got to say, that was one _amazing_ night."

The tone of his voice was warm and husky. Buri let it sink into her bones before she shifted again in his arms. "Why, thank you."

He pretended to be hurt. "That's not what I --"

She leaned forward and shut him up with a kiss. "I know." Grinning, she added, "Good morning."

"Nothing good about it," muttered her lover, smiling nonetheless, before disentangling himself from her and finally getting out of the bed. Buri watched him go, not making any motion to do the same thing herself. Jon and Thayet had thrown a small, if raucous, party the night before. They had also insisted that both the Knight Commander of the King's Own and the Commander of the Queen's Riders make an appearance. Midway through the party, Buri had taken up a post against the wall, and was sulking tremendously when a pair of warm arms wrapped around her.

Raoul had proceeded to amuse himself for the next half hour by quietly murmuring obscene propositions, involving the two of them, in her ear. She had almost choked on her cider once (when he mentioned the stable idea) and then again (when he suggested that perhaps Lord Wyldon's office would be better?). Finally (after he complimented her on how she was flushed and trembling) she'd hauled him out of the banquet hall, shoved him into a niche in the hallway, and kissed him silly.

Eventually, of course, they'd ended up in his rooms, and it had rapidly progressed from there. She grinned as her mind recalled exactly what had taken place.

The thwack of a pillow disrupted her reverie and she sat up, irate. "What? I was --"

Raoul tossed the pillow onto a nearby chair. He had managed to get himself into breeches, but not -- to Buri's secret satisfaction -- a shirt. "If I'm awake, you're awake. And what were you doing that had you looking so pleased?" he asked, stretching.

She burrowed back under the covers. "Nothing," she said defensively. "Well, I mean, just thinking about last night."

He leaned over and tugged a strand of her hair gently. "Better for you than you let on, hmm?"

She threw off the covers with a groan, and attempted to get out of the bed. Her thigh muscles yelped at her. "Ouch!"

Raoul laughed. "Oh, much better, I'm sure."

Buri gave him a black look, then wrapped a blanket around her. She stood up with a wince and stalked toward the dresser. She'd tossed her clothes there the night before. "I don't know why I do this to myself. Almost every night this week, it's been, and I hobble out of here, aching, bruised, --" she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and couldn't supress a grin. "-- covered in teeth marks --"

She was abruptly swept up from behind. "You do it because you love it," purred Raoul. He kissed one of the marks he'd left on her throat affectionately. "Don't tell me you don't."

She elbowed him lightly. "Goddess knows what my trainees must think about those." She craned her neck to see her reflection, and saw him brush his fingers gently over the tenderest of the marks.

"Tell them they're battle scars," he suggested, then released her. "From... very interesting battles."

She picked up her underclothes. "Interesting, indeed," she replied dryly. As she got dressed -- she knew well enough by now to tuck a change of her own clothes in Raoul's drawers -- she glanced at him. "I wonder what your boys think when you stumble in late and exhausted."

"They know well enough by now not to mention it."

"Do they really?" She'd have to try that trick on her trainees, sometime. It seems that nothing can stop the under-the-breath innuendos she gets. They'd been coming full force from Evin especially, lately, and from Miri -- not that those two should be talking, she thought. "How'd you teach them to do that?"

He'd tugged on a shirt, and was in his study, although the door was wide open. "Oh, Dom made a few cracks about it, and then I pulled him aside one day and made a discreet mention of -- oh, I can't remember exactly. Something along the lines of long, cold Scanran winters and the various uses of flagpoles, I think it was."

Buri chuckled. She'd met the blue-eyed sergeant once or twice, and knew he was in line to be Raoul's second if Flyndan ever retired. He was a shameless flirt, but, Raoul told her, a good fighter. "Hasn't he got anyone you can knock him about?"

Raoul leaned against the doorway, watching her finish getting dressed. "Not yet. I'm thinking I should play matchmaker, after all these years of having it inflicted upon me."

He looked suspiciously innocent. "And just who are you planning to set him up with?" she asked, dubious opinions clear in her voice.

He grinned sheepishly and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm hoping to put Kel and him in an advantageous situation sometime, and just let things happen."

She gaped at him, letting the laces of her shirt fall from her fingers. "You're kidding me."

He shook his head.

"You're terrible," she declared, sweeping up her things. "That's it. I'm leaving."

She was halfway to the door when a big hand caught her wrist. "Come back." Raoul pulled her close against him and captured her chin in his fingers. Black eyes scanned over her face tenderly, before he bent and kissed her mouth.

By the time he pulled away, Buri's legs were butter all over again. He smiled. "Thanks for last night," he murmured.

She nuzzled his collar gently. "Even if you do try to play matchmaker with unsuspecting innocents, you are _excellent_ in bed," she told him, voice lazy and quiet.

"They're not unsuspecting, and they're not -- well, at least Dom isn't -- innocent either. I think I'm doing a perfectly reasonable thing."

She gave him a shove, and he released her. "I'm not going to be here when they come to kill you," she warned, and opened the door.

"Will you be here tonight?"

Buri looked up at Raoul. He was leaning against the doorframe to his bedchamber again. Her eyes flicked from him to the rumpled bed inside the room, and back to him.

She grinned, and he returned it, already knowing her response. She said it anyway: "Absolutely."


End file.
